AT BAY
The "old Indian" asserted itself in Deerfoot the Shawanoe. While
every act, and in deed every thought, of the wonderful young warrior
was prompted by conscience, yet his views of duty under certain
circumstances, were fitted to bring a smile to the face of an
impartial judge.
While standing behind the tree on the crest of the elevation, he was
sure of two things: he had little time to lose in going to the help
of Jack Carleton and Otto Relstaub, and the Shawanoes who were
trailing him were close at hand. He settled the dispute by deciding
to stay where he was a few minutes longer. If his enemies did not
appear within that brief period, he would hasten from the spot.
This conclusion on the part of the young Shawanoe presaged a
desperate encounter between him and his foes, and he made preparation
for it. He set his rifle on the ground, with the muzzle leaning
against the tree which served to screen his body, and brought his
long bow to the front. Drawing an arrow from its quiver, he glanced
at it as if looking for some defect, but he knew none was there, nor
was a single shaft of the score and a half in the quiver imperfect
in any respect. The youth always made his own weapons. He glued on
the feather which guided and steadied the missile in its flight, and
he fastened the heads with metal obtained from the whites. Every one
of his possessions had been tested and proven.
Deerfoot grasped the bow loosely in the centre, one finger of the
same band also holding the arrow in place, with the notch against
the deer sinew, not yet drawn backward. The amateur archer will
understand that he was in form to bring the shaft to a head on the
instant it should become necessary.
It was some five minutes after he had assumed this position, and
while looking back over his own trail, that two Shawanoe warriors
silently emerged from the bushes fifty yards off, and stealthily
approached him. They moved absolutely without noise, for their
woodcraft told them they were close upon the most dangerous being
they had ever undertaken to hunt.
The foremost lifted his foot just clear of the ground and placed it
squarely down again. His head and shoulders were thrown forward, so
that most of his long, coarse, black hair dangled on both sides of
his neck and over his chest. It hung in front of his face also,
and, as his forehead was very low, he had the appearance, while
continually glancing from side to side and in front, of a wild beast
glaring from behind a hedge. He trailed his rifle in his right
hand, the left resting on the handle of a knife, which, with that of
a tomahawk, protruded from his girdle. He wore the usual hunting-shirt,
leggings and moccasins, his body and limbs being well protected. His
blanket would have been only an encumbrance, and while he was engaged
in such delicate business, it was left with the canoe on the bank of
the Mississippi. The ears when visible through the dangling hair, were
seen to hold enormous rings of bone, while the nose hooked over and
dipped in a fashion that showed that the organ had at some time held a
pendant in the way of an ornament.
The countenance was blackened and disfigured with paint, in the
style already made familiar to the reader, and the protuberant nose
was rendered more striking by the retreating chin. The Shawanoe was
crafty, cunning, treacherous and revengeful, which characteristics
it may be said belong to the entire American race.
The second warrior, with the exception of his features, was the
counterpart of the leader. Dress, paint, and ornaments, even to the
strings of wampum around the neck, were similar. He carried his
rifle in the same style, and his left hand rested on the weapons in
his girdle. Both were strong and sinewy, and their sight lost not
the slightest object in their field of vision.
It was this precaution which apprised them, at the same instant,
that they were confronted by the most terrifying picture on which
their eyes had ever rested. They halted as if transfixed by a
lightning stroke.
Deerfoot the Shawanoe stood behind the trunk of an oak, a foot in
diameter, with his arrow drawn to a head and pointed at the heart of
the foremost warrior. The matchless youth was at bay, and in the
exact posture for launching his deadly weapon--right foot forward,
bow grasped in the centre, arrow held by the fingers of the left
hand, which were drawn backward of the shoulder, while the bow
itself, on account of its great length, was held diagonally in
front.
The two Shawanoes who suddenly became aware of their danger, did not
see all that has been described, for Deerfoot utilized the shelter
so far as he could. Most of his body was carefully protected, and,
though the bow was slanted, the lowermost point scarcely showed on
the opposite side of the tree from the top of the weapon.
The warriors saw the head, left shoulder and hands of Deerfoot and
the upper part of the bow, whose arrow was on the very point of
speeding toward them. Directly over the shaft, with head slightly
inclined, like that of a hunter sighting over his gun, were the
gleaming eyes and face of the young Shawanoe. It looked as if he
had turned his head to one side that he might catch the music made
by the twang of the string when it should dart forward with the
speed of the rattlesnake striking from its coil.
No more startling sight can be imagined than that of a gun aimed
straight at us, with the finger of the marksman pressing the
trigger. The first proof the pursuers received that they were
within sight of the youth they were seeking was of that nature.
Both stood for a second or more unable to stir. But their training
prevented the spell lasting more than the briefest while.
The second warrior made a tremendous bound directly backward,
dropping to a squatting posture as he landed, and then scrambling to
cover with a quickness the eye could hardly follow. While employed
in doing so, his companion emitted an ear-splitting screech which
made the woods echo. He caught a shadowy glimpse of him as he
leaped high in the air and fell backward, carrying with him the
arrow of the marvelous archer, which had gone clear and clean
through his body, and remained projecting both from the breast and
back. A defiant shout rang from the elevation, and, peeping timidly
forth, the crouching red man saw Deerfoot holding his bow aloft with
one hand, while he swung the gun with the other and strode off, his
face toward his pursuers.
"Where are the Shawanoes? Do they love to follow Deerfoot across
the great river? His heart was sad for them because so many bowed
to his bow and arrow--so he left them that his eyes might not look
on their warriors who fell by his hand; the Shawanoes are fools,
because they follow Deerfoot. They cannot harm him, for he is the
friend of the white man, and the Great Spirit gives him his care;
let the Shawanoes send Tecumseh and the Hurons send Waughtauk;
Deerfoot stayed his hand when the time had come for Waughtauk to
sing his death-song, but if the chief trails him across the great
river, Deerfoot will not spare him."
The young warrior doubtless would have indulged in further annoying
remarks, had he not kept moving all the time, so that his last words
were uttered while he was beyond sight of the terrified Shawanoe
crouching on the ground; but the voice of Deerfoot was raised to a
key which prevented any observation being lost.
The declaration, following the act of the youth, showed that in his
mind his relations toward his enemies changed when they followed him
beyond the Mississippi. In Kentucky all stood on the same footing,
and he often showed mercy, but if they pursued him into Louisiana
they became his persecutors, and whoever crossed his path or sought
to molest him, did so at his peril. He had voluntarily withdrawn
from their chosen hunting-grounds, and they would be wise if they
left him alone. He would not flee from them like a hunted deer, but
would teach them severer lessons than they had ever yet learned.
The death-yell of the stricken Shawanoe was certain to bring others
to the spot, but Deerfoot cared nothing for that. It mattered not
if there were a score, for, if he chose to flee, he could out-speed
the swiftest runner on either side the Mississippi. With the
thousands upon thousands of miles of mountain, prairie, river, and
wilderness at his back, he could laugh to scorn the rage of his
enemies.
Though he had lived several months in this section, it was the first
time his deadly foes had attempted to molest him. Self-defense
demanded that they should be shown it would not pay to repeat the
attempt.
Still retaining gun and bow, he passed rapidly down the slope, and,
having previously fixed in his mind the course to pursue, pushed
forward at an easy pace, which was much swifter than would be
supposed.
Fast as he journeyed, he had not gone far when five Shawanoes
(including him who had so narrowly escaped his bow), hurried to the
spot where the smitten warrior lay. They had heard agonized cry in
battle and knew what it meant. The second survivor was given but a
minute to flee, when he encountered the others rushing thither, and
he turned about and joined them. They would have been less arduous
had they not known that the terrible Deerfoot was gone, as was shown
by his defiant shout, which came from distant point in the woods.
Precisely eight Shawanoes (not a Miami among them) paddled over the
Mississippi to hunt the youth: the only two absent from this party
were pursuing Jack Carleton and Otto Relstaub, while they journeyed
toward the northwest, after the stray horse. The occasion,
therefore, was a fitting one in which to consult as to the line of
policy to be followed.
It may seem incredible, but it is an unquestioned fact, that five of
the best warriors of the most formidable tribe in the West decided
to give up the attempt to capture or kill a single one of their race
whose years were considerably less than those of the youngest member
of the party, and that, too, on the ground that the undertaking was
too dangerous. One of those five Shawanoes, became converted to
Christianity after the war of 1812, and settled in Kentucky, near
the home of Ned Preston, to whom he gave the particulars of the
council held by him and his comrades more than twenty years before.
Of course no one of the five admitted that personally he was afraid
of Deerfoot. All expressed the greatest eagerness to meet him,
where a chance to engage in fatal combat could be gained.
Apparently no greater boon could befall them than such extreme good
fortune.
But they could not shut their eyes to one or two discouraging facts:
they had entered a country entirely strange to them, but which was
familiar in a great measure to the fleet-footed traitor, who could
never find himself lacking for some hole in which to hide himself.
It was very much like hunting in an endless forest for the fawn that
leaves no scent for the dog to follow.
But worse than all, the Shawanoes could not doubt that the execrated
Deerfoot had formed alliance with the Osages, who would give him
help whenever wanted. Such being their theory followed that they
were not fleeing from a despised foe, but from a whole tribe of
Indians. For five warriors to withdraw in the face of such
overwhelming odds, could not be construed as cowardice, but only as
wise discretion.
Such were the grounds on which the party based their decision, which
was accompanied fierce lamentations that the fates had interposed to
save Deerfoot from their vengeance.
"We talk that way," said the old Indian, long years afterward, while
telling the story in broken English, "and," he added with a laugh
twinkle in his dark eyes, "we much brave--we want to meet Deerfoot
but we looked to see he did not come; if he came, then we wouldn't
be so much brave; we turn, and run like buffalo, we much afraid of
Deerfoot; we no want to see him."